Gut Reaction
by ArtsyDJ
Summary: Emma is so quick to react to situations, it almost always gets her into more trouble. This time she chases a would be criminal in to the forest and hurts her ankle. Can she make it home? And will she let Mary Margaret help her?


**Summary** \- Emma is so quick to react to situations, it almost always gets her into more trouble. This time she chases a criminal in to the forest and hurts her ankle. Can she make it home? And will she let Mary Margaret help her? Full of Emma/Mary Margaret fluff and goodness

Semi story inspiration came from this Emma quote - "I cannot lose that, I cannot lose my family"…. "friends, whatever." - Emma Swan

**Setting** \- Somewhere in Season 1, after Emma and Mary Margaret become closer friends. I love their relationship so much in this season.

**Disclaimer** \- I do not own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters. I simply love the characters so much that I'm playing with them.

**Author's Note** \- This is my very first attempt at a FanFiction story. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"What a day..." Emma grumbled to herself as she drove away from the Mayor's house. She was beat and all she wanted to do was get home and chill.

Henry had unexpectedly showed up at the station after school and against Emma's wishes he'd hung out with her for the afternoon and evening. It was fine, and she was happy that he wanted to spend time with her, but when the kid was around all she heard was crazy talk about fairy tale characters and the like.

So, when Emma was finally done with work and could wrap up for the night, she and Henry piled in to her car for the ride to Regina's.

After calmly explaining (or _trying_ to calmly explain) to the Mayor that it was Henry's decision to spend his evening at the station, Regina had yelled at Emma to which Emma had raised her voice more than a little bit as well.

"Whatever!" Emma had eventually yelled as she whirled around on her heel, leaving Regina fuming in the doorway.

Slamming the door to her beetle with far more force than necessary, Emma was finally heading home. As she drove, however, her attention was suddenly drawn to movement as she noticed a stranger outside the library. Was someone trying to break in?

_Does this town ever get a break from all the drama?_ Emma wondered as she threw the car in park and took off as quickly and quietly as she could.

Since being elected sheriff after Graham passed, Emma had been doing her best to keep the town safe. But some days, Emma was puzzled as to how in the world anyone (in their right mind) could keep up. And yet, here it was, late evening after an already taxing day and yet another spat with the mayor. Emma wasn't having it tonight.

The moment the suspect noticed her he took off sprinting and, still being keyed up from her confrontation with _madam mayor_, Emma immediately took off after him. The rain earlier had left the town in a foggy haze and the temperature had dropped significantly from the warmer temps during the day.

After heading in to the woods the would be thief tuned up his speed and, in hot pursuit of him, oblivious to her surroundings, Emma ended up stepping in a hole concealed by wet leaves. Her momentum coupled with determination unfortunately meant that as she landed in the hole, her ankle twisted painfully. As she fell a quiet, but desperate scream escaped her lips. She landed in a heap, listening to the quickened footsteps as they moved farther and farther away from her. "Damn." She smacked the ground as if it had somehow dealt her a wildcard.

Breathing heavily against the pain that struck her ankle like a knife, she quickly assessed anything else that might have been hurt in her fall. Barring her ankle, everything else seemed okay. Now to figure out the best way to stand, let alone get back to her car. After quite a bit of psyching herself up, she stood, but her ankle wouldn't hold any weight and she crashed back to the wet ground. She was shivering as she started crawling, yep, crawling. The sheriff, crawling through the woods. It had to be a sight for sure and someday she would laugh about it. Just not tonight. Eventually she found a long, sturdy branch that she could use to help support herself.

What should have been a ten minute walk back to her car took over an hour this go around. She slumped in to the driver's seat, chilled nearly to the bone and cursed at herself for being so stupid. Why was her gut reaction to just start running?

After testing the gas and brake pedals with her injured ankle, she figured she could manage the short drive back to Mary Margaret's loft with her stick shift. High pain tolerance though or not, Emma had to admit that operating the car was grueling and took far more energy than normal.

Emma tested her range of motion briefly before exiting her yellow bug. Without the ability to fully rotate it, she knew her ankle was swelling inside her boot, and with driving it had begun throbbing incessantly. She grasped the door frame with white knuckles as she scrambled to stand.

In reality, it may have been only two flights of stairs, but with the dead weight of her ankle it felt like the freaking Empire State Building. She took each step so methodically it made her brain hurt. Such a simple thing as climbing the stairs had never taken this much effort and thought. Grasping at the railing, Emma was sure that her ankle would give out at any given moment. But, that old Emma Swan determination made sure she would make it to the landing, and indeed she did. Pausing before inserting her keys, Emma took a deep breath in an effort to calm her erratic breathing.

The door swung open and Emma limped inside, pulling the nearest chair close, her ankle pleading with her to stop walking on it.

Emma knew she'd never be able to hide her injury from her roommate, but she really didn't want to have explain it all tonight either. Especially after the day she'd had. However after ascending the stairs alone (if she hadn't been sure of it before), Emma was completely convinced that without Mary Margaret's help, or crutches, or anything for that matter that could stabilize her ankle and take some weight off, she wouldn't be able to do anything. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as the gravity of the situation settled in like a rock in her gut.

"Emma?" A voice drifted from Mary Margaret's bedroom. "Yeah, it's me." Emma tried to keep her voice light, as she grit her teeth against the nearly unmanageable pain.

Getting her boot off was a process in and of itself. As Emma finally removed the boot, her pain skyrocketed. What little bit of pressure the boot had placed on her ankle was now gone and she was paying the price. She shut her eyes to calm her stomach and ease the spinning room. A few deep breaths later and the spinning had thankfully slowed.

Emma was just setting her boot on the floor when Mary Margaret came around the corner with a basket of laundry. "Oh my goodness, Emma, what happened?" Mary Margaret's eyes were huge as she nearly dropped the laundry basket. She took in the entirety of the situation, Emma's swollen and discolored ankle set gently on the floor, muddy jeans and a thoroughly pained and exhausted expression on her friend's face.

Emma shrugged in an effort to downplay how bad the situation actually was, "I dropped Henry off and on my way home I saw a man trying to break in to the library. I watched for a bit, then he caught sight of me and took off running. I chased him, but slipped on some leaves in the forest..." Emma's voice trailed off. "Oh Emma, I'm so sorry." Mary Margaret gently touched her friend's shoulder.

"Mind if I…?" Mary Margaret gestured toward Emma's bruised ankle. "Help yourself." Emma said with a shrug. The brunette bent down to assess her friend's injury. She gently took Emma's ankle in to her hands and manipulated it ever so cautiously not willing to cause her friend additional pain. Emma winced as Mary Margaret carefully prodded around.

Mary stood and eyed her friend, "Let's wrap it, ice and elevate tonight, if it's not better in the morning, we can go to the hospital." Emma nodded silently. Not what she wanted to do, but unfortunately her responsibility as sheriff meant it might be medically necessary this go round. Especially considering the fact that she couldn't even really walk.

Mary Margaret's motions were so smooth and adept, as she wrapped Emma's ankle. Where did she learn to do this? Emma wondered to herself. Mary Margaret glanced up to meet Emma's eyes, "is that too tight?" "No, it actually feels like it helps some. Thanks."

"I can set you up on the couch tonight if you'd like. Probably be easier." There was the kind hearted friend Emma was so grateful for. A quick glance toward the stairs and then at her ankle, Emma was sure she shouldn't try the stairs. A look of relief flickered in Emma's eyes as a small smile quickly crossed her lips. "That'd probably be good for tonight."

Mary Margaret tossed Emma an ice pack and grabbed another chair to elevate her foot. "Here you go. I'll have this set up in a minute." Mary Margaret said as she went about grabbing blankets and pillows. "How about some hot chocolate? That should help warm you up." She said as she glanced Emma's direction only to find her eyes closed.

As she finished setting up the makeshift bed, Mary Margaret eyed the couch to make sure everything Emma would need was within arm's reach. After preparing two mugs of hot cocoa, Mary Margaret woke Emma with a gentle shake of her shoulder. "Emma, the couch is ready. I also got some pajamas out for you." She smiled as her friend raked a hand through her blonde hair. Emma smiled at Mary Margaret, "Thanks. I really appreciate all you're doing for me." "It's what friends are for, right? C'mon, let me help you to the couch." Mary Margaret held out her hands for Emma.

Emma eyed her friend's hands warily, she hadn't had a true friend in a long time, longer than she cared to admit. For most of her life she'd been a loner, an orphan with no friends or family. But Mary Margaret was pushing all of the right buttons for Emma and trust, (did she just think that?) Yes, trust was beginning to build between them.

Emma's hands were shaky and muddy as she grasped Mary Margaret's hands. A look of concern washed over the teacher's face, "Emma, we need to get your hands cleaned up." For the first time since she'd gotten home, Emma was aware of something other than her ankle, Emma turned her hands upward. "I guess I need to wash them." She stated flatly.

Mary Margaret gently slipped her left arm under Emma's right and helped her stand. The teacher gazed toward the sheriff, as an exhausted pair of eyes met hers and she was acutely aware of how the evening's events had taken a toll on her friend. In the soft, caring tone that Mary Margaret used, she grasped Emma's hand. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. Then you can lie down. Okay?" Emma just nodded, suddenly far to exhausted from her escapade to even talk. Emma was impressed at Mary Margaret's strength as she steadied her on their way toward the bathroom.

Emma sat down on the toilet seat as Mary Margaret handed her the pajamas and fetched a clean washcloth for the blonde to clean her hands off.

Mary Margaret busied herself in the kitchen, cleaning up from the hot cocoa and washing the dinner dishes. All at once, the bathroom door opened and Emma stood in the doorway, holding her right ankle delicately off the ground. She gingerly hopped her way to the couch and plopped down with an appropriate thud.

The thud prompted Mary Margaret to direct her attention to the couch. She swallowed a chuckle as she caught sight of Emma dressed in the pink pajamas she'd given her. It was such a stark change from Emma's red leather jacket and jeans. Emma's eyes floated up to reach Mary Margaret's and bit back a smile herself. The whole evening, outside of Emma's injury, was nearly laughable. The sheriff, crawling through the forest, then limping, and now preparing for bed in pink pajamas. What an evening.

A consistent pulsating pain in Emma's ankle drew her attention back to reality and caused her to elevate her throbbing foot on the pillows her friend had set on the couch. Emma hated asking for help, but there was no way around it now. "Mary Margaret?" Emma's voice projected toward the kitchen. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I just need the ice pack again. Can you bring it...please?" Mary Margaret grabbed the pack from the freezer and tossed it to Emma. The blonde caught it with a chuckle. "Thanks!" Her shoulders actually shook with the small laugh.

With the slightest amount of jostling possible, Emma placed the pack on her sore ankle. As the ice seeped through the wrap it cooled the wrenched muscles and tissue, relief clearly evident on the sheriff's face as she laid back against the pillows cushioning the arm of the couch and closed her eyes.

Mary Margaret grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water. "Here you go. These should help." She handed Emma the bottle and set the water on the coffee table. Emma washed down the pills quickly.

With the evening's chill still wrapped around her like a wet blanket, Emma readily accepted the warm mug of cocoa her friend had prepared. The teacher grabbed the other mug and they both enjoyed their drinks in silence, simply being in each other's company.

Eventually Mary Margaret opened a book and Emma absentmindedly thumbed through a magazine. A while later Mary Margaret looked Emma's direction. Her friend had finally fallen asleep. Emma looked so peaceful in her current state. Her face wiped clean of emotion, it made the brunette want to dig deeper, to tear down those walls and let Emma know she was safe here. Mary Margaret smiled as she moved to clean up a bit. She set the mugs in the sink and checked the ice pack on Emma's ankle, which was mostly thawed. She placed it back in the freezer.

A tug in Mary Margaret's gut, caused her to pause momentarily in the kitchen, Emma was safe for the time being. However, her ankle was still very swollen and the bruising seemed to be getting worse. Worry ran across the teacher's face. What if Emma had seriously injured herself? And why did she feel the urge to mother her? Emma was indeed someone's child. But why was the feeling in her gut so strong? A quick shake of her head to brush the feelings off and Mary Margaret went to gently cover Emma with a throw. With one more glance at the couch to make sure Emma was good, Mary Margaret flipped off the lights and headed to bed.

As the brunette crawled into bed and pulled up her covers, her thoughts drifted back to her blonde roommate and friend. Emma was as taken care of as she could be for the time being. They'd have to visit the hospital tomorrow, Mary Margaret was sure. But for tonight, with Emma's ankle elevated and wrapped there was nothing more to do.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom curtains, waking Mary Margaret. She blinked rapidly as she woke. A quick glance toward the living room proved that her roommate was still asleep. She smiled, Emma needed the rest.

As Mary Margaret went about getting ready for the day, she washed off the mugs from last night, but the clinking of glass must have awakened Emma.

The blonde rubbed her eyes and sat up. Quickly aware of her surroundings and her swollen, aching foot. Emma laid back with a humpf. She decided that a good test would be to see if she could even move her ankle. She watched it carefully as she told her muscles to move. Barely anything. "Great, really?" Came an exasperated voice from the couch.

"Good morning." Mary Margaret's face poked around the corner. "Oh, hi, morning." Emma was grumpy and looked frustrated. "What's up?" Questioned the brunette. "I can barely wiggle my toes, let alone move my ankle this morning." Emma whined.

Emma's realization evoked a long sigh from her friend. "I think it's time we got that ankle checked out. I know you don't want to go, but..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off as Emma slumped back on the couch.

After a quick breakfast, and getting Emma dressed (which proved quite fun when it came to her tight jeans, and tender ankle) they were in Mary Margaret's car heading to the hospital. "Regina's going to have a field day with this." Mary Margaret was sure she heard a bit of sarcasm in Emma's tone and smiled a tad herself.

Mary Margaret parked and helped Emma out. Since the sheriff's ankle still couldn't hold any appreciable amount of weight, the brunette wrapped her arm around the blonde's shoulder and carefully helped her inside.

A while later a weary Emma emerged, crutches under her arms and ankle encased in a gray walking boot. An incredulous expression came across Mary Margaret's face when she saw Emma. "What did Dr. Whale say?" "Well, I should learn my lesson in being quite so hasty in taking off after people. I've definitely got a severe sprain... possibly a hairline fracture, with the swelling he couldn't tell, but in a few weeks it should be okay. These guys will be my friends for a while, though." Emma said lightly as she gently shook the crutches.

"He also said I need a week off from work, just to start the healing process and let the swelling go down. I'm sure Regina will love that. I can only imagine how she'll react..." Emma rolled her eyes thinking of the conversation that she and the mayor would undoubtedly now have to have. She smiled at Mary Margaret, "thanks for encouraging me to come. I would have only made it worse by trying to walk on it." A half smile came across the teacher's face, "You're welcome, Emma."

As Mary Margaret shifted the Jeep into drive, Emma stared out the window, her heart about to burst by the fact that she had a friend, who at least for the time being wasn't going anywhere. In the past she'd always had to suffer through the pain and such alone. Now, she had family, or at minimum someone who felt like it.

Mary Margaret glanced toward Emma briefly and caught the slight smile on her friend's face. Love, mixed with gratitude filled the brunette's heart. Maybe, just maybe, she was breaking in to that wall that Emma had done such a good job surrounding herself with. She smiled as they left the lot. Yes, Emma was going to have quite a recovery ahead, but together they could make it.


End file.
